by Flynn, Mac
I slid my fingers from Vince's chin, but didn't release his eyes from my firm gaze. "So you would've missed him, and vice versa?" I guessed.
Vince gave a nod. "Yes, we were. . .we were as two children afraid to blow out the candle of life of the other. Bat, too, had every opportunity to destroy me, but he refused." Vince chuckled, but there was no mirth in the sound. "He compared killing me to destroying his last bit of humanity. The last bit of soul that remained before he immersed himself in alchemy."
Now I felt like an ass. "Vince, I. . .I'm sorry. I didn't know he was that important to you. Sure, you guys bantered, but I just thought he was an old friend like Tim."
Vince straightened and gathered his emotions. "Yes, well, now you know the full truth between Bat and myself. What choice will you make? Will you help me find him, or will you-" I whacked his arm as hard as I could, and he flinched.
I folded my arms across my chest and glared at him. "After hearing that story do you really think I'm going to stand around here and see if Ruthven kills Bat?" He opened his mouth, but I held up a finger. "The answer is 'hell no,' so where do we start figuring out this note puzzle so Bat can tell us about Tim's note puzzle?"
Vince smiled and pulled out the yellowed sheet. "He wrote the note on an ancient piece of parchment. There may be something important in the words, the ink, or even the paper itself."
"Like something to do with alchemy?" I asked him.
"That may be."
"So you know anything about alchemy? Because I sure don't. Heck, I couldn't even pass chemistry," I quipped.
Vince pocketed the note and shook his head. "No. Bat didn't wish to kill me, but he didn't trust me enough to reveal his alchemy secrets to me, or anyone else. However, he isn't the only alchemist in the city."
"So we go to an alchemist place like Vera set up for witches and pick a name off the list?" I suggested.
"Alchemists are more suspicious of one another, and refuse to create guilds or groups. They are also very skilled at hiding their occupation and only boast when they have reached a great discovery, so they are not easy to find. However, we may find some information from Mitch," he told me.
I snorted. "I just hope we have enough money to pay him. We barely got him to help us last time, and that was because we paid him back with his life," I reminded him.
"We could always offer to deprive him of the same if he refuses to cooperate," Vince mused.
"Let's try the money first, and see where we go from there," I advised. I glanced around the dark, ruined building and sighed. "I just hope we get to Bat before those doppelgangers do."
Vince led me through the mess and back to our car. "Bat has survived this long. He would not allow himself to be taken by shadow fiends," he told me.
"So if alchemists are all secretive then how does Ruthven know about Bat being this all-powerful alchemist, anyway?" I asked him as I followed his long strides.
"Ruthven himself is an old alchemist, and regretfully he is well-read on their lore and hierarchy," Vince explained. "He learned about Bat and the rings from ancient texts and has searched for Bat for several centuries."
"Why? I mean, he's lived that long without anybody's help, why does he want Bat?" I wondered.
We reached the car and Vince took the wheel while I slid into my usual seat. "Bat has performed countless experiments with alchemy, and the side-effect has been to infuse his blood with pure magic. It has extended his life, and even a drop of such blood would give the drinker magical powers beyond compare, though the effect would only last for a limited time. Bat always feared he would be captured and his blood drained from him and replenished, only to be drained again."
I cringed. "That's really sick."
"Ruthven is such a creature."
I furrowed my brow as my mind brought forth a memory. "Wait a sec, didn't I take some of Bat's blood? You know, the second time we were here?"
Vince shook his head. "No. Bat has always been careful about his blood, and has created a shell around his body that is made of false blood. It was that which you tapped into in your feeding."
"That sounds like some serious alchemy. So Ruthven wants Bat's blood because it's all magical and stuff? What's the magic do?" I asked him.
Vince nodded at my ring. "That magic Ruthven seeks, a sort of immortality with unlimited power, is the same that powers our rings because one-half of the blood inside the rings is Bat's. The other half of the blood fusion is mine which he used to strengthen our bond."
I looked down at my ring and cringed. "You' mean I've been carrying around your guys' blood all this time? That's kind of nasty."
Vince smiled as he backed us out and drove down the road. "Through all of our adventures you find that idea detestable?"
I waved the ring at him. "Yeah, because this thing's kind of stuck to me. At least with anything else I could always wash it off."
Vince's smile faltered and he punched the gas peddle. "That problem may well be solved if Bat dies," he mused.
I cringed. "And if it doesn't? If these rings don't die with him?"
"Then you remain in the same fate as you are now."
I slumped in my seat as we barreled down the road. "So I have to hope Bat dies, but I don't want him to die, but then I'll be a vampire which is kind of cool except for the whole blood-sucking thing." I ran a hand down my face and sighed. "Man, this really sucks, and not the vampire kind of suck."
"The night isn't over yet," he reminded me.
I snorted. "Thanks, I needed that pick-me-up."
"You're welcome."
"I-well, I think you're annoying."
"I will take that as a compliment."
"You would, now let's get this visit to Mitch over with. The eyeball in that place gives me the creeps."
Chapter 3
We arrived at our regular sewer hole and dropped into the darkness of the dank, smelly sewers. Vince held his arm out in front of me so I wouldn't pass him. He himself stood still and his eyes swept over the area. "What? Something wrong?" I asked him.
"With Ruthven desperate to capture Bat and us, we must be vigilant," he told me.
"So watch out for shadows that aren't ours?" I guessed.
Vince nodded. "Yes. He will continue to loose his doppelgangers on us."
"Just as long as he doesn't loose them too often, or I'm going to be a vampire before sunrise," I quipped.
"Would that be so bad?" Vince mused.
I looked up at him, but he had his face turned away from me. "I'm kind of trying to avoid that fate right now, at least until we're not having people trying to kill us."
Vince dropped his arm and strode forward. "The way is safe. I neither smell nor hear anything amiss."
I hurried after him and scrutinized his face. His lips were pursed together and his dark glasses partially hid his eyes. "So you're kind of stuck on this whole me-becoming-a-vampire thing. Are you wanting me to become one?"
"No."
"You ever thought about having a vampire partner?"
"Yes."
"With me?"
"No."
"With Tim?"
"Perhaps."
I rolled my eyes. "Come on, it had to be Tim. I mean, who else has had the ring besides me, Bat and Tim?" I paused and frowned. "Actually, who has had the ring?"
"Merely you three, and myself with my own," he told me.
"So Bat gave the ring to Tim. Why?" I wondered.
"Only Bat knows the answer to your question. He would not divulge that information to me, and the exchange took place while I was asleep," Vince replied.
"So you were Tim's partner for what? Two hundred years? How come in all that time he didn't become a vampire and I've got one foot in the grave after a couple of months?" I asked him.
"You have used your ring excessively-"
"To survive," I argued as we walked through the tunnel of torches.
Vince shook his head. "The reasons are unimportant. My changing into a human also assisted in your hurrie
d depletion of humanity. When you used the ring on Field you worsened the situation greatly."
I glared at him. "Maybe I shouldn't have saved a certain vampire from certain doom."
"As I said before, the reasons are unimportant. The uses drained your humanity to the point of undeath, and nothing but freedom from the ring or complete death can change your fate," he insisted.
"You're just full of good news today. Next you're going to tell me that Ruthven's following our trail with his werewolves."
"Actually, I have that news," a voice spoke up. I started and jumped into Vince's arms. He caught me and turned us to a shadowy figure that emerged from the darkness. Officer Romero, zombie cop for the Parasquad. "And it's worse than that. He has-"
"Doppelgangers. We have already fought many of them," Vince finished for Romero as he set me down.
"Then you know how dangerous this is, and how dangerous you're making it for everyone else," Romero mused.
I frowned at him. "Dangerous for everybody else? We're the ones being chased by shadows and dog-breathed monsters."
He turned his narrowed eyes on me. "Ruthven doesn't care who gets in his way, and his lap-dogs don't discriminate between those they're tracking and innocent bystanders. They've been attacking anyone who comes through these tunnels, even members of my squad."
"We can't help who Ruthven chooses to attack," Vince argued. He tried to step past Romero, but the zombie held out one of his rotting arms.
"Maybe you can't help there, but you can help me with info. Why the hell is he causing this much trouble now? What'd you do to tick him off so much?" Romero questioned us.
"This isn't your fight," Vince argued.
"Like hell it isn't. Ruthven's making this everybody's fight, what with those werewolves crashing the tunnels and those black books he put on the market," he growled.
"But we stopped those," I defended us.
"We might've stopped the manufacturing, but there's still a whole bunch out there causing trouble," he pointed out.
"If you wish for the trouble to stop, then let us proceed," Vince commanded him.
Romero frowned. "Why shouldn't I just drag you to headquarters and see what I can get out of you? That'd be a lot less trouble for me then letting you two cause trouble around the sewers."
"The more time we waste here the more time Ruthven has to find what he is searching for," Vince told him.
"And what is he looking for?" Romero persisted.
I shrugged. "We honestly don't know, but we do know it's why Tim was killed."
Romero's foggy eyes flickered between us. He sighed and lowered his arm as he shook his head. "I suppose I owe you guys big time for saving my skin back there, even if I did let you borrow my dog. However, if I hear one bit of trouble and you two are involved, I'm hauling your asses down to headquarters for that info, got it?"
I saluted him. "Got it."
Romero stepped aside and jerked his head down the tunnel. "Get on then, and don't cause trouble down here. We've got our hands full of hairballs as it is."
We strode past the zombie cop and down the lit tunnels to the lights at the end. I glanced over my shoulder and saw that Romero had already disappeared. "Sounds like Ruthven's getting desperate to find what we're looking for," I whispered to Vince.
"And Bat," Vince reminded me.
"You think Bat's down here?" I asked him.
"There is that chance. Bat had a great many hiding areas he spoke of to me, but there were also many he kept to himself," Vince told me.
"So we can't just go searching for him in all the places you know?" I surmised.
"That's correct."
My shoulders slumped and I sighed. "Of course, that would make this too easy."
We reached the end of the tunnel and the mouth opened to the underground city of the supernaturals. Something was off. Rather than the usual booming business of witches, hags, zombies and mummies walking to and fro for their shopping, there was only emptiness. The streets were nearly deserted. Only a few stragglers scurried from shop to shop in search of essentials.
Vince didn't miss a stride, but walked through the emptiness. I stuck close to him and turned my head from side to side. "Things must be worse than Romero said," I whispered.
"They sense the presence of the doppelgangers," Vince explained.
My eyes widened and I stepped closer to him. "So they're here?" I asked him.
"No, but they have been, and may return."
"Small comfort."
We reached the Boo Bar and stepped inside. The tables were empty and the bar tender was gone, but our old friend and informant Mitch sat at his usual table. He looked up at us as we approached and frowned. "You guys are way to predictable. They counted on that."
A dozen howls erupted behind us, and we spun around in time to see twice that many werewolves burst through the front doors of the establishment. Their clawed feet skidded on the linoleum, but the momentum of their entrance slid them towards us. Vince grabbed the nearest tables and slid them into the path of the oncoming hairballs. The front wolves collided with the tables and rolled across the tops. Their brethren at the rear collided into them and tumbled in a doggy pile on the floor.
Vince grabbed my hand and we raced to the side door that led to Mitch's 'office.' That direction was cut off when another two dozen werewolves burst through the doors and stood in the door frame. Their teeth glistened in the dim light of the swinging lamps and their yellow eyes called for murder. We stopped and turned around. The other werewolves climbed to their feet and snarled at us as they clacked towards us. Behind the hairballs I could make out the shadowy forms of doppelgangers. They brought up the rear at both exits. We were surrounded.
"Sorry about this, guys. They made me do it," Mitch spoke up.
"That makes us feel a lot better," I snapped at him as Vince and I backed up against his table.
A sly smile slid onto Mitch's lips. "If it makes you feel any better, this was a trap for them, too."
Mitch raised his hand and snapped his fingers. A quiet rumble arose around us and the ground beneath our feet began to shake. There was a loud crack as something broke through wood. I turned my eyes to the front wall of the bar. My eyes widened as I beheld the large eye push forth from the wall and bring with it a massive body clothed in a toga. The eyeball was a cyclops and its body was a bundle of muscles that looked like it was constructed of rock. Its shoulders squeezed through the small hole that once held its eye and fissures ran along the walls on either side of it. Plaster fell from the ceiling and the werewolves yipped and scattered.
The eyeball was ready. It snatched the werewolves with its large hands and tossed them into its wide mouth. They howled and screamed on the way down, and some clung to the rotten teeth. The cyclops smashed their hands and they fell back into the abyss of its gullet. Those werewolves still on the ground entered full panic mode. We hit the back wall near Mitch's table to avoid the panic as the werewolves raced to the windows and tumbled over each other to escape through the doors. It was a massive pileup of hairball traffic, and the cyclops gobbled down dozens of them before the survivors were able to escape. The werewolves crashed into their shadowy accomplices outside the establishment and scattered the darkness to the four winds of the underground complex.
The whole episode was over in a minute. Only we remained in the ruins of the bar, and all was quiet. The lamps swung precariously from the ceiling and cast strange shadows over the cyclops and Mitch's face. Mitch waved his hand at the lights, and the cyclops arrested their swinging with his hands. "That's better. Those damn lights were making me sick," he commented.
"H-how? What? When?" I choked out.
Mitch stood and chuckled. "You really thought an eyeball inherited this place?" he asked me.
I pointed a shaking finger at him. "You're. . .you're the owner of the Boo Bar?"
He spread his arms and grinned. "Guilty as charged."
I shook myself from my shock, and gestured to the cyclops.
"Well, in a crazy world like this having an eyeball own a place didn't sound that impossible," I argued.
Mitch nodded at the cyclops who blinked back at us. "He's my employee, or, to be more specific, the business' security."
"Then how come he missed those demons the last time we were here?" I pointed out.
He shrugged. "Nobody's perfect. Besides, he's used only to clean up the big messes, and those werewolves were a big mess."
"What did they promise you in return for your help?" Vince questioned him.
"My life, and a chance at a little spot of my own after Ruthven's takeover of the city," Mitch told him.
"Ruthven's takeover? Is that all this is about? Him trying to take over the city?" I spoke up.
Mitch frowned at me. "First the city, then the world. The werewolves hinted that he had big plans, but they needed you guys to achieve them."
"Did they mention anything about an alchemist?" Vince asked him.
Mitch shook his head. "No, nothing that particular, only that they wanted you two alive." He leaned towards us and scrutinized our faces. "So what is this about, anyway? The whole story, I mean. Ruthven's not just looking for you two so he can have a nice, friendly chat."
"That is our concern. What we need from you is a reading of this." Vince pulled out the weathered slip of paper.
Mitch took it in hand and raised an eyebrow. "This is some seriously old paper, and infused with magic, to boot. Where'd you get it?"
"What can you tell us about the writing?" Vince persisted.
Mitch turned the paper around in a circle and shrugged. "Nothing except that it looks like it's in some sort of alchemist code. I'm no good with that lingo, but I know a guy who might help you." His eyes flickered to us and a smile slid onto his lips. "That is, for a price."
"How much?" Vince wondered.
Mitch shook his head and tapped his temple. "Not that kind of price. I want info, good info. Like what's Ruthven after?"
"Do you wish to have more dealings with werewolves and doppelgangers?" Vince asked him.